Dance
by carla304
Summary: Caroline convinces Elena to go out for a night to a club and, of course, Damon tags along. Much dancing and guilt follow. Multi-chaptered one-shot. Damon/Elena   Tyler/Caroline   Elena&Caroline/friendship. Mostly Canon, with a little AU.
1. Ride

AN: Okay, so I've had this idea bouncing around the back of my head for a while now. Actually since the end of season two, but it's obviously changed a bit as time went by. Gonna be about three/four chapters long; it's really just a glorified one-shot. Takes place over one evening. It focuses on the Damon/Elena relationship of course, but also takes a look at the epic Elena&Caroline friendship, which I feel the show is only just starting to brush on. I ended up using this as a sort of study about some of the less explored aspects of the characters. All canon, but a few AU ideas of mine. Rated M for a reason.

First chapter is quite light, and dare I say, fluffy? Further chapters get quite a bit more angsty, guilt-ridden and lemon-ish. Hope you enjoy :)

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><p>"Seriously, Elena," said Caroline, looking disdainfully over her shoulder from her seat in front of the mirror. "My gran shows more leg when she's at her scrabble games."<p>

"I really don't see the point of dressing up," replied the brunette, coming forward to peer at her reflection from behind her friend, "Remind me why I agreed to come along as your third wheel this evening. I do have better things to do than watching you and Tyler make out, you know."

Caroline swivelled around in her chair, her mascara brush raised and her face set in ambush mode.

"Right, like a date with Ben and Jerry in front of the TV. I'm your friend, and I fully support your being heartbroken and all, but I gotta tell you, you're getting closer and closer to cat-ladydom."

Elena scowled but kept silent. This had been an argument they had been having since the previous evening, when her friend had thrown down her popcorn and stormed out of the sitting room, declaring she'd had enough of _Gilmore Girls_ re-runs and it was time for them to get out of town for a bit. So, grudgingly, it had been agreed that they would visit a new club that had opened in one of the nearby towns.

Evidently pleased that she had won this round, Caroline smiled brightly, fluffed her curls a few times in the mirror and stood up, making her way to her closet, the contents of which were spewed out on the floor.

"Now," she said, rummaging through the mess, "We just need to find something…"

She trailed off, immersed in the task before her. Elena sighed, defeated, and sat heavily down on the bed. She stared out the window, wondering why she allowed her friend to boss her around like this. The last time she had been this bad had been the school dance with… _Stefan_. She felt the familiar twinge of unpleasantness at the thought of him, and felt the dreariness of the past couple of days settle upon her again.

"Look, I know you're excited, but I'm really not feeling up to this right now," Elena said, looking down at her hands, "I just…"

Suddenly her friend was sitting next to her on the bed and she wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"I know. It sucks," she said quietly. "But you gotta get out. Stop thinking about it, just for a while. You need a bit of normal, for a few hours, and we both know that's not something Mystic Falls is famous for."

Elena let out a soft laugh and Caroline beamed.

"Now, enough of the Oprah talk," said Caroline cheerfully, pulling Elena up and leading her to the cupboard, "Besides, I found you something to wear."

She indicated a red dress hanging on the door. It looked tight and very short, but Elena had to admit she'd been seen in less in her wilder days, and she knew arguing with Caroline would probably just end with the thing being yanked over her head in any case.

She slipped off the purple dress she had been wearing, and started pulling the red one on. Her estimation of its size had been correct.

"God, Care. How do you breathe in this thing?" gasped Elena as she pulled it over her stomach.

"Oxygen isn't too necessary anymore. One of the joys of being dead inside." she said, touching up her lip-gloss

"I think I'm starting to understand the feeling," replied Elena, pulling the straps onto her shoulders.

Caroline smirked and looked at her in the mirror.

"Wow, you look pretty hot," she said, "I'll have to keep Tyler's eyes averted."

"As if that would be a problem," said Elena, playfully nudging her out of the way so she could see her reflection.

The dress was dark red, very short, and skin tight. While it covered up most of her cleavage in the front, the back was open to just above her butt. Elena was immensely grateful she had opted for uncomfortable undies. She didn't know if she would be okay with her friend's no underwear policy, especially not in this dress. But she had to admit, she would definitely be turning a few heads that evening. She hadn't dressed up like this in years, and the feeling gave her an odd sense of accomplishment. _That_ girl was still in there, somewhere.

"Ugh," she said in mock horror, "I guess it will have to do."

Caroline smiled triumphantly, tossing Elena her coat. As the girls were slipping on their shoes, there was a knock on the door.

"I'll go get that," said Caroline hastily, clattering down the hall, "You need to finish your make-up, anyway. I'll entertain the men for a while."

Elena looked up sharply from the mirror where she was curling her hair.

"Wait, who else is coming?" she called out.

But Caroline was already at the door.

* * *

><p>Elena walked slowly down the hall, straining her ears to hear who else was there, although knowing Caroline, she had a pretty good feeling. She didn't hear much until-<p>

"Please, if I'd wanted cheap porn, I would've stayed in," came a familiar, drawling voice.

Elena's stomach gave a twist. She had known it was Damon the second Caroline had mentioned "men", especially after clearly stating that morning that it would just be the two of them and Tyler. But the sound of his voice did funny things to her pulse rate, especially as she thought about how little she was wearing under her coat, which she hastily buttoned up.

She rounded the corner to find Damon scowling at Caroline and Tyler who appeared not to have heard him as they were moulded together at the lips.

"What are you doing here, Damon?" she asked, pointedly ignoring the interlocked couple.

"Designated driver," said Damon, looking Elena's coat up and down quickly. He smirked. "I didn't realize we'd be going all the way to Alaska."

Elena huffed, feeling her face heat up.

"Well, if Blondie has _quite finished_ her excavations, I'd like to be getting on the road. The sooner I start drinking, the sooner I can forget this tonsil orgy," said Damon loudly.

With a soft pop and a sweet smile to Tyler, Caroline extracted herself and turned to face Damon.

"Jealous much?" said Caroline brightly as she led Tyler out.

"Never really felt the urge to molest any of my pets," said Damon, holding the door open for Elena.

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><p>Damon had always been a confident driver, and had no problems with longer trips. He didn't get bored easily, and his attention didn't often stray from the road. It was one of the only places where his control was generally assured.<p>

Tonight, however, was different, and try as he might to control them, his eyes kept wandering away from the road to the passenger seat and its occupant.

Her legs in particular held a particular fascination that evening. When she first sat down her coat was just shy of her knees, but every time she turned to talk to her friends in the backseat it road higher and higher, exposing more of her golden skin underneath. Each time this happened, his mind went into overdrive, and he was glad for Caroline's incessant banter as it provided a necessary distraction.

He blamed this in part on the fact that he hadn't gotten any decent action since Andy had died, and on the hormones that were practically pouring from the backseat. The boy really had no control over his urges, and Caroline had never exactly been sexually tame. He had a feeling that the only reason they weren't thrashing around in the car was for Elena's benefit. Teenagers. And yet, his current thoughts could probably rival the seventeen year old's crude imagination.

But in a large part, he knew it was because it was Elena sitting next to him. He laughed inwardly at himself for how hard he fell on the rare occasions that he did. She usually elicited thoughts of this kind every now and then when he was with her, and of course her face was the one he had used for the past two years whenever he got himself off. But tonight, it was as though every move she made ignited something in him.

Her hand shoving his arm lightly when he made a sexist comment had his palms sweating like a schoolboy's. Her neck elongating as she threw her head back and laughed at one of Caroline's jokes sent her perfume washing over him and he felt his fangs prick at her exposed throat. His name tumbling from her lips again and again, usually a joke at his expense, had his stomach tightening at the sound. Her chocolate eyes shining as she smiled at him had his heart twinging, as he stared at the gorgeous creature right next to him who was still so far away. Her coat rising a little more up her legs as he reached out his hand to change gears had his mind's eye reaching out for her skin and sliding higher and higher, which left him shifting uncomfortably in his jeans as the rest of his body reacted to her.

But worst (or best) was the pure and tangible life coming off her in waves, seeming to invite all his attention. She was comfortable and happier than he had seen her in a long time, and it seemed to be glowing around her, making him laugh and smile when she did. But it brought along with it that longing and aching he felt when he remembered that not one of those laughs belonged to him, because she was with his brother.

But he did notice her watching him every now and then when she thought he wasn't looking, and she laughed the loudest at his jokes. She also kept finding excuses to touch him, always briefly and for completely innocent reasons; steadying herself with her hand placed on his arm as he completed the punch line of one of his older jokes, which usually bored him but now had him smiling as her face lit up with amusement.

If he had to choose, this would probably be his favourite of Elena's many moods, although he had only seen it once or twice. Never around Stefan though, and a small part of his mind liked to think of it as _his_ Elena, but he always pushed this out before it could start manifesting into anything.

As a result of all of this, he was in sensory overload, so when she whined, "I'm uncomfortable," and twisted in her chair and placed her hand on his thigh for leverage, he was surprised they didn't go swerving off the road. He felt himself heating up all over from her simple touch. His eyes shot irrevocably down to where her hand was, but she was already pulling it away to brush her hair out of her face. His eyes travelled for the umpteenth time along to the hem of her coat. When she had turned this time, she had lifted her knee up onto the seat and the coat had meandered a further inch or so up her leg, so high that he wondered whether she could possibly be wearing anything underneath it, which of course did not help his growing problem.

There was a sigh of exasperation from the back seat.

"Dumbass, you just drove past the place!" said Caroline indignantly.

Damon shook his head to clear it and concentrated on finding a decent place to make a U-turn.

"So much for designated driver," said Caroline smugly as he parked next to the curb.

"Maybe you should be grateful to the guy who'll be dragging your inebriated ass out of this wreck later," he snarked at her.

"Maybe _you_ should keep your eyes on the road," hissed Caroline, smiling knowingly and jerking her head in Elena's direction, who hastily scrambled out the car and pointedly yanked her coat down to her knees again. Damon dropped his head back against the seat in frustration and then pulled himself out the car, following the other three up a metal stairway next to the building.

What made his entire situation worse, was that he knew Elena had some feelings for him that were not platonic at all, although they were nothing close to what he felt for her and she would rather swallow her tongue before admitting them. He was not blind, far from it. One hundred and fifty plus years of getting women into bed had taught him what to look for, and having supernatural senses allowed him to read the way her body reacted to him, even if her thoughts and feelings were dark and unknown to him.

Having very few morals and personal boundaries, he would have had no qualms with reading her diary which she was always scratching away at. But he doubted it would give him any more insight than staring at the back of her head. He knew because of her pride and loyalty to his brother, she probably couldn't admit these feelings, even to herself, and he didn't feel like sifting through all the Stefan-worship looking for mentions of his name. He had his pride too.

At least, that was what he thought until she handed her jacket in at the coat check, and he found himself openly ogling her. The red fabric of her dress, (if it could be called that, it looked like woven fire) clung to every one of her considerable curves and slid over her skin like molten lava as she moved. The back of the dress was pretty much non-existent, the cut-out dropping down and down leaving her smooth skin exposed to his extremely exploratory eyes. The hem of the skirt just brushed the tops of her thighs, which stretched on forever in front of him, finally curving to form her perfectly tight ass. If Satan had ever taken to fashion design, this was the dress he would have sculpted, and then wrapped around the girl in front of Damon, who had turned and now caught him staring. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, as they flicked up and down his form, before meeting his again.

Caroline, who had just finished compelling the bouncer, came over to them and scoffed at the look on Damon's face.

"I would say 'she has a face' but that seems a bit redundant for this evening," she said, grinning at him. She then slapped Elena playfully on her bum, (_luckiest hand in the world,_ flashed through his mind) which jolted her and she turned swiftly away from his intense gaze. Caroline winked at him, put her arm around her friend's waist and led her inside, saying "The shots aren't going to buy themselves."

Damon stood shell-shocked for a few more seconds and then turned to see a hazy eyed Tyler staring after Caroline, who he had to admit, was also looking pretty fantastic in a brown dress that rivalled Elena's in the lack-of-fabric department. Tyler looked up at him and gave an awkward smile of understanding, before clapping him on the shoulder and saying,

"Good luck, man."

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><p>END NOTES:<p>

Okay, so we're just getting started. I was going to post the whole thing as one chapter, but when I hit 10k words, I figured it was time to split it up, just for structure's sake. I have most of the rest written out already, just needs proof reading and touching up a bit. But please comment and tell me what you think! Much time went into this.

Also, thanks to **bangel_4e **on Livejournal, for her awesome last minute proof-reading skills.


	2. Moves like Misery

AN: Thanks for all the lovely comments :) _Really _loved last week's episode, I think you'll know why after reading this… Enjoy, as usual!

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><p><em>Girl, you really got me bad.<em>

_Now I'm gonna get you back._

_I don't need to try to control you,_

_Look into my eyes and I'll own you._

-Maroon 5

Elena was sitting on a plastic-coated bar stool, people watching. She had danced with Caroline for a while, who treated her dance partners like a pole, then the two of them and Tyler had done a few shots and the couple had left her at the bar with a margarita in hand to go dance. An attractive blonde man sat down next to her and started eying her up rather blatantly. She ignored him, as this was the sort of reaction she'd been getting that evening. Caroline's dress really was working magic.

She felt her skin tingle as she remembered the look on Damon's face when he had first seen her in it. However, after devouring her with his eyes he had disappeared into the crowd of bodies and seemed to be avoiding her. At the thought of him her eyes moved again (as she had been doing enough staring herself that evening) over to where he was dancing between two girls who looked like they were dressed for a playboy shoot. She felt her stomach twist in anger at the way they were rubbing themselves all over him. He looked up then as if he could feel her gaze on him and smiled cockily. She grimaced and turned away, accidentally bumping the blonde next to her with her legs. He smiled and nodded his head in the direction of the dance floor, asking her if she wanted to dance.

She shook her head not really paying attention and turned to face the bar, replacing her empty cocktail glass with three tequila shots. She'd thrown back the first one when she felt a familiar jean-clothed leg brush against hers, as Damon sat down beside her. She didn't look at him and downed the second shot, cursing her high alcohol tolerance. She didn't want to think just then. Damon whistled, and indicated the barman to bring him what she was having.

"Wow, this place must be terrible for you to be drinking so heavily this early in the evening," he said, putting back his first shot.

"Just taking a leaf out of the Damon Salvatore's _Drowning your Sorrows Guide_," she said tersely, she looked at him and he was smirking down at her, "What happened to your partners, or did their pimp come looking for them?"

"They're around," he said, laughing, "'Cause if you and Caroline joined in it would be like-"

But she didn't wait to hear exactly what it would be like. She downed her last drink, grabbed the blonde's hand, (who slopped beer down his arm) and stalked onto the dance floor dragging him along with her, all the while glaring at Damon who was still smiling serenely at her.

She wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck, who was so busy staring at her chest she could have robbed the bar without him noticing, and started grinding along to the beat. She averted her eyes from Damon's, but she knew he was watching her, and she saw him down his last two shots and get up out of the corner of her eye. He made his way over in her direction and started edging around the other people to where she and her partner were. She locked eyes with him, and although he was smiling, she saw that dangerous glimmer in his blue eyes. Her heart spiked has he got behind her partner, and he stopped. She watched as the red light shining from the ceiling illuminated his face, and she saw the veins around his eyes constrict, as the whites of his eyes turned blood red. Her pulse was thrumming away at break neck speed, and she was about to yell out when he dipped his head and squeezed past them as if nothing had happened.

As he walked behind her she felt his hand slide over her bare back. She shivered, partly from fear, but mostly from the sensation of the rough skin of his hand on the smooth skin of her back. It prickled like static electricity and her hairs stood on end. Her back arched slightly and she leaned into her partner to gain more contact with that hand. In a beat where the music was silent she heard an intake of breath next to her ear, but when she turned around there was no one there, and the hand was gone.

She felt cold all of a sudden, and realized how friendly her _partner's_ hands had become, who, although he hadn't noticed the other man setting her skin on fire, had taken her moving into him as attraction. She shoved him off and moved away, only to be jostled into the arms of another guy, who was very tall but had a nice smile, so she started moving along to the beat with him.

And so she passed time, moving from stranger to stranger, never lingering for more than a song. She didn't see Damon again, and the only hands on her back were those of her partners, which felt scrabbly and uncontrolled in comparison. The place _he_ had touched was still tingling, but she tried to ignore it and danced on. However, she got hot in amongst all the people, and when her hair started sticking to the back of her neck more than was comfortable she detached herself from her partner and made her way to the bar.

Tyler was sitting on a chair sipping a beer, so she plonked down next to him and ordered a glass of water. He smiled at her and they sat in companionable silence for a while. After she'd cooled down she turned to him and asked,

"Where's Caroline?"

"She went to the bathroom," he said, and she detected a tone of distaste in his voice. She followed his eyes to where he was glaring at Caroline and Damon dancing, something Elena hadn't noticed before. "Then when she came back, well…"

He trailed off, still glaring at the pair mutinously. Caroline was doing her usual quasi-striptease dance up against Damon, but was it really necessary for him to be so… reciprocal to her ways, Elena thought irritably. She and Tyler sat in silence for a while until he turned to her suddenly and asked,

"He slept with her, didn't he?"

"Oh, uh… yes. I forgot about that," said Elena lamely, suddenly feeling a little sick watching the way the two of them were moving together. So synchronised. Tyler looked at her carefully, and then smiled; the mischievous look on his face eerily similar to the one Caroline wore whenever she was thinking of one of her schemes.

"Do you wanna dance?" he said, raising his eyebrow. Elena was surprised, but agreed. She'd danced with pretty much all the other men in the room already, so she may as well.

They made their way over to where the other two were dancing and Tyler pulled her close, a lot closer than she expected, and started swaying along, his hands on her hips.

It took about twelve seconds of this before Elena felt small hands roughly grabbing her shoulders and she was yanked backwards a few feet. She stumbled and saw Caroline wrap herself around Tyler, glare at Elena, (who was giving her best "I'm sorry" look) and attack Tyler's mouth. He didn't seem to mind, and they were soon kissing fiercely, their hands blurring over each other's skin.

"Ah, young love," said Damon's voice behind her. She whipped around and found he was standing a lot closer than she expected. She took a small step back, trying not to be too obvious, but his eyes followed the movement. He held out his hand.

"Care to dance, Miss Gilbert?" he purred, and while the voice in her head replied "_hell, yeah_" she shook her head and said,

"I need to get some air."

She started walking away, but she felt his hand grab hold of her arm and he spun her around so he was standing behind her. He bent forward, not touching her, but she could feel the heat of his skin on her back, and she had to stop herself from leaning into him.

"Well, you could ignore me all evening," he said into her ear, his breath brushing over her neck and really making her shiver, which made him smile, "Or you could treat me like another stranger and _dance."_

"Ignore," she said steadily, meaning to walk away, but he took her hand and turned his face towards hers.

"Wrong answer," he said breathily, sending shooting sensations across her skin wherever his breath touched it.

The tips of his fingers of his other hand rested gently on the side of her hip, not causing enough pressure to keep her there, but showing a clear indication of where he wanted her to be. And try as she might, she couldn't make herself move, for she couldn't bear to come away from the feeling he was sending over her skin. She knew what she was doing wasn't smart, and part of her brain was screaming at her to leave this feeling and go; ignore it, as she always did, and move on.

But for one night, no, one _song,_ she wanted to remember what it was like to just _feel._ It had been such a long time, and _that_ Elena, the one who had flashed with Caroline on the main road in town; who had made out with Bonnie for $10 of booze; who acted on whim for her enjoyment not caring about the future consequences; the one who had been buried for so many years since tragedy had ripped her life apart; _that_ was the one who was in control, holding her in her place. Exactly where she wanted to be.

For a beat they stood like that, not moving. Then he slowly brought her hand up to the back of his neck, where it rested gently. His hand gripped her hip more tightly and he pulled her back against him, his body flush with hers. Her harsh intake of breath was mirrored by his at this new level of contact. He was hard and warm, the thin material of his t-shirt left almost nothing between her bare back and his chest, and she felt herself craving to get closer, as he moulded his arms around her. She laced her fingers through his, pulling his hand further across her hips, her fingers burning against his. The beat reverberated through her, and she wasn't sure where her pulse ended and the music began, but she moved against and with him, shutting off everything else.

She could hear his breathing start to escalate as their hips moved against each other's. Letting go of all previous qualms, she pulled his hand around her waist, so that she was caged against him. He gripped on tightly, his fingers reaching the back edge of the dress and as their skin brushed hers she felt herself tremble to her core. She twisted her fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck and pulled, eliciting a ragged breath against her throat. This sound of pleasure filled her with a giddy confidence and she rocked her hips back against his. She felt his forehead crash into her hair as he groaned. She could clearly feel just how aroused he was and a small part of her brain whispered that she was going too far, but the knowledge of the extent to which she could affect him had her on a power high, and all she could think was _more, more, more._

His hand slid up her back between them and he pushed her hair over her left shoulder, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder as he looked down at her body. Her boldness had spurred something in him, and his hand slid almost painfully slowly down her neck, over her shoulder and grazed the side of her breast which the dress left exposed. The blood was clouding up inside her head and she couldn't think; all she knew was his skin, their heat and her want. His hand continued its journey down her side, brushing over their interlocked hands on her waist, over her hips and to her thigh. He traced small light circles just below the hem of her dress and she gripped his hand and neck so tightly she knew it was causing him pain, but that did not deter him.

Contrarily, he smirked, his eyes on his hand at her thigh, and with maddening slowness he fisted his fingers in the material of her skirt and started dragging it upwards, millimetre at a time. His other hand glided up her side to just below her breast, where his thumb started tracing those circles again. Her head felt as though it would explode with the heat coursing through her veins. She moaned and her head fell back against his shoulder. She felt his lips find the skin on her neck and she sensed rather that felt his teeth sharpening at their proximity. She knew she was in an extremely dangerous position, but she was so ridiculously turned on she couldn't find it in herself to care.

Suddenly she had been flipped around to face him, his hands on her back pulling her close again. With one hand he lifted her chin and her eyes were drawn to his ice blue ones, which held her in place like a deer in headlights. He held her gaze like this until his fangs had retracted and his skin returned to normal. He let out a breathy sigh, fanning warmth across her face and she felt dizzy as his heady scent washed over her. His forehead rested against hers and his eyes drifted lazily down her face and down to where their chests were pressed up against each other. Her eyes zoned in on his lips and the way he tugged slightly on the bottom one with his teeth, and she felt a maddening urge to kiss him, in earnest this time. But she knew, even lost in him as she was, that _that_ would be crossing the line that was blurred between them.

Just then the lighting changed to a white strobe and she lost all sense of what was real. Where he ended and she began was lost to her as her lips parted and she breathed in, inches away from his lips, taking in his air. He was everywhere; she could taste him, smell him, feel him pressed against every inch of her; she was drunk on it, on _him_. His hand slid down her back and the tips of his fingers found their way under the top of the skirt and he pushed her hips forward to meet his. She knew it was wrong, but she just wanted to feel more and more of him. She slid her leg so that one of his was between hers and she started grinding against it, the rough fabric of his jeans driving her mad as it rubbed against her thigh. His other hand grazed down her hip and tugged at her leg, as he attempted to hitch it higher up his.

As the lights flickered she caught flashes of his face; his eyes on her lips, her neck, her eyes, her breasts; each time a new place as though he couldn't get enough of her.

She didn't care that what she was doing was wrong or that she was in a public place. All she could see was him, and she was drunk on his scent, his sounds, his warmth; she could feel his erection pressing against her hip, and could tell she'd probably already gone flying over the line. But with his one hand wrapped around her thigh and the other arm enclosing her waist, all she could do was _feel_. His jeans were now rubbing her in all the right places as he held her leg up for leverage, and his hand was slipping up her thigh with clear intent that added to the wetness between her legs. Her forehead bumped against his every time they moved against each other, and they were panting into each other's mouths with little abandon.

The urge to kiss him, capture his lips and feel his tongue moving with hers, became unbearable. She lowered her forehead to his shoulder which was slick with a thin layer of moisture, whether sweat or condensation from their breaths she wasn't sure. She moaned into him, moving faster, as the friction was no longer enough. His hand slid quickly up her thigh and as his fingertips grazed the material of her panties, she smashed her lips against his shoulder and her teeth grazed his skin. He groaned into her hair, digging his nails into her skin. Everything was hot, perfect and_ Damon_ in that moment and she could barely remember her own name. Just when she thought she had lost all sense of reality, a woman bumped into them, causing her to bite down into her lip.

The metallic taste of blood seemed to jolt her to her senses, and guilt shot through her like ice in her veins. She stumbled backwards, confused by all the flashing lights, and she saw Damon's eyes as they struggled to focus on her in his dazed state. She took only a moment to lean into his ear and mumble,

"I really need some air," before closing her eyes and savouring the last moment against his body, then pushing herself away from him, and into the mass of moving people.

* * *

><p>AN: Ah, Elena. As I said earlier, I really enjoyed the last episode (3x06). In the gym scene I was all Eep! He was all touchy with her, and her top was backless! It was like the picture in my head came true, at least to some extent. Also, we need a Delena dance this season. They've done the pretty dance, the cute- funny dance, so what's more appropriate than a sexy one? Am I right? Also, if they get Ian to dance to Moves like Jagger I'm pretty sure my life would be complete. But that's just me ;)<p>

Anyway, please comment and tell me what you think! Next chapter _should_ be up in a week or so. Chapter title inspired by Maroon 5, who currently hold my musical attention.


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